The Revolt of the Phoenix
by mypatronusisaweasley
Summary: Post DH. Wizarding World falls divided when new politics and old beliefs threaten the peace the Order has fought so hard for. Ron Weasley rises as a leader in the war for Muggle equality. Cannon Pairs.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.

Chapter 1

The Deception of Silence

A very soft rain had started to fall through the patchy ceilings throughout Hogwarts as day turned to dusk. Minerva McGonagall lifted her wand momentarily with the intent of casting a shield but changed her mind. _Maybe we need a little cleansing. _She thought as she returned to the terrible task of identifying, and directing the removal of bodies.

She'd tried to round up as many adults as possible for this particular job, not wanting to give her pupils anymore memories that would haunt their dreams, however, it would be a lie to say she wasn't relieved when some of the seventh year boys insisted on helping. The ministry's attempt to bring in assistance was met with fierce opposition. Shacklebolt was able to convince her of the trustworthiness of very few. She resumed her work with the same determination and reverence as before when she was once again interrupted, this time by the increasing volume of Luna Lovegoods voice, calling from across the great hall.

"Someone," she was almost breathless, "someone, come quick." Heads turned and a few wands, out of what was now a defensive response, were en guarde. McGonagall started walking forward and then broke into a jog to quickly quiet the girl before panic set in. She stopped short a few feet from Luna, who was hunched over the body of Remus Lupin. Harry and Seamus who had just returned from Madame Pomfrey's make-shift mortuary just in time to notice the now growing group of spectators, broke through the crowd with panicked curiosity.

Minerva knelt beside Luna gently, 'What is it girl?'

'I can hear his heart beating.' Luna said through her trademark moony smile. Her ear pressed lightly against his chest.

Harry threw himself down next to Luna, at the head of Remus. He looked to Professor McGonagall for confirmation but didn't wait for it. 'Remus, can you hear me? Remus?'

The lack of an answer didn't dampen Harry's mounting spirits as McGonagall ordered everyone to stand back. She conjured a stretcher out of thin air, gently pulled Luna clear of the space to Lupins left, and motioned for Seamus and Harry to lift Lupin onto the stretcher. 'Take him to Madame Pomfrey's immediately.' She ordered. They were quick to the task. Minerva gestured wordlessly for everyone to get back to work. A few watery smiles lit dark faces as students, parents and order members all returned back to their grisly tasks. Minerva waited a moment then knelt down next to covered body that had been lying next to Lupin. She pulled the white sheet low enough to just see the peacefully slumbering face of Nymphadora Tonks. She put her hand on Tonk's chest and willed her heart to beat too. When after a few moments it failed to obey, Minerva kissed her fingers and placed them softly on Nymphadora's cheek. Tears welling in her eyes, she pulled the sheet back and called quietly for the two nearest boys who'd been assisting her. She swallowed her grief as she watched them haul her away, and returned once again to the bodies that were waiting for her.

* * *

Harry, Ron, Seamus and Neville were all huddled around Lupin's bed while Madame Pomfrey waved her wand slowly over Lupin's chest. It was oh so small, but undeniably there. A rise and then a fall. Remus Lupin was white, too white. The pale only served to more intensely set off the dark bruises that littered his face and neck, making him look corpse like. Was that why he'd been originally presumed dead?

"How is this possible?" Neville asked the question they'd all been thinking.

He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud until Madame Pomfrey answered in a soft but joyful voice. "It must be related to...well, his condition. The werewolf in him."

They all stood silently. Harry looked up at Ron to notice that he wasn't watching the miracle occupying the bed in front of him, but rather the miracle across the room, bandaging up injured soldiers from the battle the three of them had managed to survive. He followed his gaze and his heart swelled impossibly more. Hermione and Ginny working side by side offering the little healing powers they possessed to anyone they could.

Ron's arms were crossed but his stance relaxed, his expression one of mixed relief and determination. Harry was used to the missed looks the two of them would give each other, and they were almost always easily deciphered, but Harry sensed this was a new Ron standing next to him. And this new Ron was not so easily read.

"Maybe we should get back out there. It's going to be hours before-, we'll before we can rest." Harry suggested. Neville and Seamus shuffled around the bed and started for the door but Ron was rooted where he was, lost in thought and still seemingly distracted by the girl across the room.

Harry pondered Ron for a moment. "Why don't you go let them know what's going on?" Harry nodded his head towards the girls. That seemed to be the motivation Ron needed, as he uncrossed his arms and slowly made his way across the room. Harry turned to Madame Pomfrey, "You'll tell us if there's any change?"

"Yes, of course." She replied almost giddily as she applied dittany to a number of cuts behind Lupins right ear.

Ron reached the girls before Harry, who had decided to hang back and give Ron a moment. Both Ginny and Hermione listened intently to whatever Ron was telling them. Hermione's eyes seemed to glass over as she exhaled heavily and put her hand over her heart, her relief obvious. Ginny just beamed. They trio seemed ready to disband when Ron must have been struck with something very great for he grabbed the hand of a retreating Hermione and turned her slowly around. She questioned him with her eyes for the smallest of moments before Ron cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers. Harry couldn't help but smile as he looked anywhere but at them. It was then that he caught Ginny looking at him. She rolled her eyes but her smile from before was still plastered to her face. They both seemed to laugh but it went unnoticed by Ron and Hermione, who gazed at one another for a brief moment. Ron grabbed her hand again and let it go slowly as he walked away. Harry just waved at a red faced Hermione and followed his friend out of the hospital ward, and back into the sobering task of cleaning up after a war.

* * *

It was midnight before the Hogwarts survivors reached a stopping point. Families had been apparating and disapparating with jarring frequency to remove deceased loved ones. The injured had been taken care of and Hermione, Ginny and a few other girls had arranged to sleep in the hospital ward in shifts, so their resident healer wouldn't be overwhelmed. A few were able to start directing the repair of the crumbling structures surrounding them, and when McGonagall had ordered everyone to finish for the night, it didn't take long for sleeping bags and cots to start appearing out of thin air. Everyone spread out, seeking quiet, un-demolished corners and halls to finally rest. Arthur and Molly Weasley had decided to take Fred's body back to the burrow. Mr. Weasley informed his many children, biological and adopted, that he would return early in the morning to further help the clean up and check on Remus, and instructed them with weary, blood shot eyes to get as much sleep as they could. Everyone had tried to talk George into going with them, but he refused.

Shortly before 1am Ron had fallen into an empty bed in the boys Griffendor dormitory. He wasn't sure he'd even been asleep before he was awoken by a second body joining him. Bleary eyed he squinted in the darkness. Small hands forced him back down and Hermione's head rested wearily on his chest. He reached over her and pulled one of the partially open curtains closed before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her damp head. Moments passed and before he could drift back to sleep he felt warmth, and wetness penetrate his shirt. "Hermione, are you ok?" He rubbed the arm she'd draped over his chest. She nodded but continued to sniffle. The laid in silence for several moments before Ron decided he couldn't take anymore.

"Talk to me." he requested without pleading.

She turned on her chin to look up at him through the darkness. A moment passed and she answered him through her exhaustion. "I just... want to feel safe." She pressed her cheek back over his chest, and found comfort in the beating of his heart.

This left him almost speechless. Introspective. Once again, he was reminded, rather stupidly, that Hermione was a girl. He'd of course, noticed her feminine attributes long ago, but in this moment, it occurred to him that while he could tell what Harry was thinking, and communicate with him rather easily, Hermione was different. He instantly felt horrible. They'd all been through so much, but he'd never stop to think about how _differently_ it all might have affected her simply because she _was_ a girl. She was strong, but also delicate. Fragile, in some ways. It was then that his thoughts brought him back to a place they seemed to take him quite often lately. Malfoy Manner. He could still hear her screams, and remember the panic he'd felt with disturbing clarity. He could also feel something changing in him. His anger at what they'd been through was dormant, but there, crackling somewhere deep inside him, like the burning embers left after the inevitable combustion of the phoenix.

Pulling himself from his reverie he buried his nose in Hermione's neck and inhaled. He was comforted by the familiar girly-flowery smell that usually accompanied her. Ron regretted that he hadn't thought to take a shower before falling into bed. Despite the fact that she'd fallen asleep, he answered her earlier confession with one of his own. "I'll keep you safe, Hermione."

* * *

Behind the burrow, if you're willing to take a small hike, there is a hill covered in long prairie grass. At the top of the hill under an enormous willow tree, there are six tombstones. The day Fred's tombstone was added to the small family graveyard was exceptionally beautiful. The sun warmed everyone in spite of the cool breeze that blew through the grass and swept the willows. The sky was peaceful and the world around them felt calm. Everyone felt safe, which was something no one had really felt in a very long time. The ceremony was very short and highlighted by an appropriately wistfull Gaelic song sung by a brother of Arthurs. Ginny had leaned into Harry to explain it was a sort of family tradition.

Ginny Weasley had her own way of dealing with the events of the day, as Harry learned after the funeral. Instead of returning to the house with the rest of the family, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him through the willow and deeper into the hillside. They walked hand in hand, without words until Ginny seemed to find what she was looking for. Another willow, smaller than the first and quite secluded. She sat first and when Harry sat next to her, she shifted, placing her head in his lap. The breeze managed to grab wisps of her hair and Harry found himself unable to resist playing with the long red mane draping over his legs. Despite the fact that they had just buried a member of the family, he couldn't help but appreciate the moment. No one was running from mortal danger, no dark, unseen force was threatening to take away something precious to him. Ginny was safe, and here with him. He took advantage of her closed eyes and studied the tiny, almost invisible freckles that created a path across her nose. Her eyelashes were darker than most of her brother's and long. She was far more beautiful than he was ever able to recall when they were apart.

They sat for a very long time before she spoke. "When I was four, my mum got this horrible statue. I think her great aunt gave it to her. It was supposed to be a fairy, I think. Anyway it was ghastly. It had this smile, but it looked more like a grimace or something and I swore to anyone who would listen that its eyes could follow me. I thought it was somehow alive. My mum put it in the garden and it creeped me out. It got to the point where I hated going outside to play. But mum loved it. One day I was outside playing and," She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I remember thinking it was looking at me, and I got really mad so I took mums rake and rammed it as hard as I could. It fell and shattered and I was so scared I was going to get into trouble. Fred and George came out to see what had happened and laughed hysterically, and I was crying because I just knew I was going to get a spanking. Fred came up to me and put his arm around me and said "don't worry Ginny, you're mum's favorite. We'll just tell her Ron did it." At this Harry started to shake with laughter. Ginny laughed silently and her voice took on a higher pitch. "Then I got even more upset because Ron was my favorite brother and I didn't want him to get into trouble. George spent the next hour trying to talk me into blaming Ron, but when my mum and dad came out later and saw the statue, do you know what Fred did?"

Harry shook his head, genuinely interested.

"He took the blame." A single tear slipped down Ginny's cheek and Harry wiped it away. As he knew he would do for every tear that Ginny ever shed again.

They sat in an extended period of silence again. Harry wasn't sure if Ginny had fallen asleep or not, but decided he wanted to talk anyway.

"When we were gone, on the run…" He traced the outline or her nose and she peeked up at him out of one eye. "I checked the Marauders Map constantly. Looking for you. I thought if I could see the little dot with your name above it, then you were safe."

Ginny sat up slowly. She faced him and extended one leg bent over his lap. Harry didn't hesitate; he pulled her face gently with one hand and gave her the softest kiss. It had been too long since they'd been alone together. It had been too long since he'd even considered acting like a young teenager in love. And there, under the sweeping willows, hidden by the tall grass, Harry spent as much time as he could, just kissing Ginny Weasley.

* * *

Later that evening, after an appropriate amount of somber time had gone by, Charlie and Bill passed around mismatching glasses and started filling them with Firewhiskey. Molly shot Charlie a disapproving look but took the glass that was offered her anyway.

"Oi, listen here, Fred will be upset if we don't send him off with properly." He said loudly. "George, you wanna do the honors?"

George, with puffy eyes and a reluctant smile stood up. He took a second to think and when he raised his glass, everyone else did too. "Fred was a hero, a good friend and the second funniest Weasley in this family," he said with a twinkle in his eye. The twinkle remained, but was joined by a few tears as he finished. "and he will be greatly missed. To Fred." All the Weasley's, Harry, Hermione and Kingsley Shackelbolt gave a chorus. "To Fred."

Hermione coughed as the alcohol burned it's way down her throat. Through watery eyes she noticed Harry and Ron slam theirs back and hold their glasses out for refills. "How can you drink that so easily?" She questioned them.

They both had the good sense to look slightly ashamed. "Oh, you know…. sometimes in the dorms…." Ron replied, hoping his casual tone would sway Hermione's approval.

"Ronald Weasley, you were a prefect!" She chastised as she swung her hand at his arm. Though they both had been reserved in showing affection for one another since arriving at the burrow, Ron couldn't help but appreciate that little piece of the old Hermione that had just slapped him. He slung an arm around her shoulders, pulled her to his side and kissed her forehead.

"You are absolutely right my love, I am so sorry." He replied.

Hermione let out a nervous laugh and playfully pushed him away. "No your not." Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink and Ron suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he'd just called her 'my love'.

"Fancy another drink?" Charlie asked, tipping the bottle into her glass without waiting for an answer. Hermione was about to protest when he winked and said, "You'll sleep like a baby." Hermione blushed deeper and took a sip of her refreshed drink.

The comment didn't go unnoticed by Ron and he wondered if Hermione had been heard sneaking up to his bedroom the last two nights. The thought slipped away when Kingsley appeared next to Hermione and asked her for a few words in private.

She didn't seem the least bit surprised by his request, which made Ron insanely curious. He debated following them out of the room but Harry grabbed his elbow and ushered him to the other side of the house and out the kitchen door.

Harry handed him another full glass and Ron put his empty one down on a nearby chair. "You ok, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Harry took a good swig of his whiskey. "No. Look, I'm a little worried about Hermione."

Ron looked down into his drink. "Yeah. She hasn't been acting herself. She's sleeping like, 12 hours a day. Do you think it's just exhaustion?" Ron asked, somewhat hopefully. "I haven't had the chance to spend more than two minutes with her since we've been back. I-"

"Ginny says she think she's having nightmares." Harry interrupted Ron's rambling. "She's really restless. Ginny's had to wake her up a few times to keep her from waking up the whole house."

Ron frowned. "But she sleeps like a baby when she's in our room." Harry shrugged. "Hey, do you know what all this business is with Kingsley then?"

"Ginny mentioned she wants to go check on her parent's, hopefully restore their memories." Harry answered cautiously. This new Ron Harry had been noticing was stoic, calmer than the old Ron, but still unknown, therefore, not entirely stable.

"Shit." Ron murmured as he threw back the rest of his whiskey. He set the glass down and ran both hands through his hair. He'd forgotten all about her folks and felt like a world class ass for not having been more considerate. "Well you don't think they'll let her go, do you? There are still death eaters on the run and the ministry doesn't have control over the dementors."

Harry proceeded carefully. "I don't think it's a matter of _letting_ her do anything. She's not a child, she's a legal adult and as much as I don't want her out there," Ron tried to interrupt but Harry charged on. "you and I both know she won't tolerate us telling her what to do. If you want a say in any of this, don't let your Weasley temper get the best of you." Harry gave Ron a knowing look.

Ron clenched his jaw but had nothing to say. Just then the door creaked open. Hermione sneaked out and closed the door behind her. "I've just been talking to Shacklebolt." She looked relaxed, happy. The three of them looked out into the vast blowing grass surrounding the Weasley burrow.

"You don't say." Harry humored her.

"Yeah, day after tomorrow I'm going to go check on my parents. Kingsley said he strongly advises that I don't reverse the obliviate spell just yet, but I'm finally going to be able to see them." The words seemed to tumble out of her quickly, a habit of hers when she was excited about something.

Neither Harry nor Ron said anything at first.

Hermione's smile became less confident as she noticed the scrutiny she was under from both of her best friends. "What?" She asked.

Harry was the first to speak. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead much the same way Ron had done earlier. "I don't suppose arrangements have been made for all three of us then?" He asked, looking down at her.

Hermione looked a little surprised. "No, actually the ministry has arranged a port key for Bill and I to go-"

"BILL?" Ron exclaimed. "Why Bill? We've done everything together for the last seven years, what the bloody hell does Bill need to get involved for?"

Hermione was taken aback. Before she could respond Harry set his glass rather clumsily down next to Ron's two and grabbed Hermione by both arms. "Hermione, I love you, and I want you to be happy. I want you to exercise extreme caution and let Bill look out for you. If you need me, you know where to find me. Now," he looked at Ron with a warning glance. "you two have a few things you need to discuss _rationally_. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to walk inside. While I can still walk." And with that he reentered the kitchen. With the open door came the sounds of laughing and loud argumentative voices that sounded suspiciously like Charlie and George.

Ron breathed deeply. He took the half empty glass from Hermione and set it down next to the other three.

"Can we go upstairs and speak? Privately?" Hermione asked.

Ron nodded, grabbed her hand and led her into the house through the kitchen. They skirted the living room, climbed the stairs, and when Hermione tried to pull him into her and Ginny's room on the second floor, Ron beckoned her further and they climbed the stairs to his room. If they were going for privacy, they were going to get as far away from the rest of the family as possible. Ron opened the door and pulled her in behind him, then closed the door. He reached into his pocket and tapped the door knob once with his wand, locking it.

Walking up the stairs with Hermione in tow was easy. Turning around and facing her in a locked room was slightly less so. It occurred to him that perhaps the careful distance they'd kept the last few days wasn't exclusively due to the need to prevent attention from the crowd of people crammed into the burrow. Maybe insecurity played a part as well.

"You're upset." She said as Ron turned around to face her.

Ron nodded. "Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. Things were different now with Hermione and while they'd definitely been kinder and more affectionate with one another, there hadn't really been a verbal confirmation of this change. No labels like, boyfriend, or lover, or soulmate had been used. Ron felt equal parts elation and fear as he realized where this conversation could lead them. Whatever existed between the two of them had been seven years in the making, and yet, everything seemed to be happening so fast. He weighed his words heavily.

Hermione wasn't sure he was going to answer her. "Bill can conduct business in Australia, something with Gringotts. If there's anyone watching portkeys, there won't be any reason to suspect anything." She supplied calmly. When she dared to look at him she was slightly taken aback. In the soft glow of the moon and the little light provided by a small bedside lamp, Ron looked different. Older. An air of maturity seemed to accessorize the knowing, confident manner in which he was holding himself. The boy she'd fallen in love with wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. She shivered with delight and anticipation.

Quickly, without warning, the air around them changed. It was charged with anticipation and pure hunger. Ron ignored her earlier question and comment and decided to spend this time alone on something they seemed to need far more than verbal reassurances.

Staring into her eyes, Ron slid one hand behind Hermione's head and the other around her waist and lowered his mouth to hers. Hermione didn't hesitate, stood on her toes to be just a little closer and her hands formed tight fists filled with his buttoned white shirt. Their kisses were tentative. Soft, but with purpose. Ron pulled back and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen out of her messy bun. He seemed to search her eyes, and before Hermione could ask what he was looking for he slowly lowered his lips back down to hers, kissing her with renewed vigor. The intensity between them heightened. For a moment she felt weightless and then she found herself sitting on top of a dresser, making her just a couple inches shy of Ron's height. She delighted in the feel of his mouth dropping hesitant kisses down her neck. She felt Ron's fingers come up and trace a line on her neck. The line Bellatrix Lestrange had drawn with the tip her knife. It was small, and not terribly noticeable, but being only a month old, it still had a pink tinge to it. Ron lowered his mouth and kissed it with reverence. Without thinking she parted her legs just a little more, wrapped them around his torso and pulled him just a little closer. Ron pulled his face away from Hermione's collar bone and looked into her eyes once more, but she wasn't ready to stop just yet. She reached for his neck and pulled his mouth back down to hers. Ron's hands found the dark navy dress riding up the sides of her thighs and slowly pushed the fabric a little higher, not wanting to push Hermione further than she was willing to go. He felt her fingers set to work on the buttons of his vest, and then his shirt. Her warm hands slid beneath the material, lingering on his chest before trying to push the clothing off of him. Ron was about to help her when a loud bang deflated the weightless feeling in the room.

Hermione and Ron stopped everything, his hands still under her dress and resting dangerously high up her thighs. Hermione's perched atop Ron's shoulders, underneath his shirt. They waited silently for a moment.

"Is everything alright in here?" It was Molly Weasley.

Hermione lowered her head, panting, to Ron's chest. Ron removed his hands from her thighs and absently pulled down the material. "Yeah, mum, what is it." He tried to keep the desperate frustration out of his voice. He could almost hear her wringing her hands outside the door, trying to think of something to say.

"I've got a bit of cake, and some treacle, downstairs. Perhaps you'd like to join us?" She asked hopefully. Molly had seven kids and was once young and in love herself. She was no fool and interrupting was her subtle way of conveying that there were in fact, implied house rules concerning her children and members of the opposite sex.

Her request was followed by a moment of silence before Hermione laughed silently into Ron's chest and he couldn't help but smile himself. "Yeah mum, we'll be down in a few."

"Wonderful, we'll wait for you before we dish it out then." She made sure to point out.

Once he heard her retreating footsteps he pulled Hermione from her hiding place inside his shirt and looked down at her smiling face. He didn't kiss her for fear of not being able to stop.

"Why can't I come with you?" Ron asked softly.

Hermione had been expecting the question. "I just really need to do this myself. I can't…, I don't know if I can explain it." Even if she wasn't sure of her motivations, she was sure of her decision.

Ron leaned on his hands on either side of her, and Hermione leaned back against the wall behind the dresser.

"Can you try and understand?"

Again, he seemed to search her eyes. Hermione was starting to feel slightly self conscious when Ron nodded and kissed her cheek. "Promise me you'll be careful? You'll listen to Bill?"

This time Hermione nodded and then kissed his lips once more before pushing him out of the way. He stepped back and started buttoning up his shirt, amazed that after spending fifteen minutes alone with Hermione Granger, it was necessary to put clothes back on. He watched Hermione try to tame her now mussed hair in the mirror on his door. When it seemed she was done Ron reached around her and pointed his wand at the door knob and opened it for her. She turned around, reached up and ran a hand through his hair, blushing as she did so and then lead him down the stairs.

Authors note: I've got a pretty good outline for this story, not sure if anyone will be interested, please review and if you have any good HP stories you could refer me to, I would really appreciate it.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone/thing. Just playing around.

Chapter 2: Patiently Waiting

It was too much. Arthur knew well enough he needed to remove himself from the room for a few minutes. The infamous Weasley temper that the rest of his family was known for had not abandoned him. Days of reading through hundreds of pages of proposals for new legislation had not only been exhausting, but a waste of time. Remaining Ministry members were working round the clock in departments they had no familiarity with to restructure and reorganize the shambled mess Voldemort and his supporters had left behind. Death eaters were wreaking havoc with no consistency or pattern and Aurors were high in demand and short in supply.

He stormed through the kitchen and slid open the balcony door. Stepping out of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and into the crisp night air was like being splashed in the face with cold water. It was sobering. He took a few deep breaths and leaned into the banister in front of him. He didn't bother to turn when he heard the balcony door open behind him.

Remus Lupin came to stand beside him.

The senior members of the Order of the Phoenix had just met for the first time since the defeat of Voldemort and as usual, things had become heated. It wasn't the flaring tempers that made this meeting unique. It was the fact that one of those tempers belonged to the usually level headed Arthur Weasley.

They stood in silence and near blackness save the small hall light outside of the dark kitchen, barely making it through the curtained balcony door.

"How are you holding up these days mate?" Arthur asked wearily.

A smile tugged at the corner of Remus Lupins mouth. Since waking up in St. Mungos three days after being presumed dead, everyone had been quick to explain to him that he ought to feel lucky, or blessed, or grateful. He had, after all survived when others had died. He himself had been dead, or nearly dead, and had come back to make a swift and full recovery. People didn't realize it, but they'd used his survival as a crutch. They had an excuse to celebrate and push away all the devastation and loss of life. He understood why people felt the way they did, but Arthur…Arthur was the only one who seemed to understand how _he_ felt. He'd just lost his wife. He'd just inherited the task of raising a child without his mother. Despite the fact that they'd won the war and his son didn't have to grow up an orphan, Remus Lupin didn't feel like celebrating. He didn't feel lucky or blessed. He felt like shit. He missed the only woman who'd ever loved him unconditionally. He missed her patience, her enthusiasm and the fool hardy way she jumped into things without thinking. He missed her sense of humor and the clumsy way she muddled through domestic chores in an effort to play the role of wife and mother well. And by George, he missed sex. Facing a life time without these things was frustrating and Arthur was the only person who could relate. If anything were to ever happen to Molly, Arthur would be a shell of a man. He knew it, and it was why he felt sorry for Remus. And that was what had Lupin fighting the ghost of a smile. It felt good to not be lectured about how he should feel. It felt good to be pitied, because it meant someone understood.

Lupin let out a loud, drawn out sigh. "There is no rest for the weary."

Arthur grumbled under his breath and looked out over the rather large back yard. Various rain puddles mirrored reflections of the moon.

"You should bring Teddy round more; you know how the girls are. Might be nice to take a load off." Arthur suggested listlessly.

Remus nodded. Again they stood in silence.

Lupin thought deeply over the subject matter of tonights meeting. "How confident are you with all of this Arthur?"

Arthur ran a tired hand over tired eyes. "Sometimes I'm not at all." he muttered.

"Just can't let it go?" Lupin asked knowingly. He understood the feeling. Who wouldn't? A man's intuition was a sort of saving grace. An evolutionary weapon. Ignoring it was an almost impossible feat, especially when precious things lie suspended in the balance.

"It can't be a coincidence. Felix Holden shows up out of nowhere to run against Kingsley Shacklebolt at the same time that the Purist Movement's calling card is found branded onto the arm of a murdered muggle born witch." Arthur shook his head. "Listen to me. It sounds like something out of a bad bloody mystery novel."

"It _does_ look like the lotus flower. Can't we just check the body? Where is it now?"

"The mark wasn't permanent, it vanished during transport. That mangy photograph is all we have."

Lupin rubbed his tired eyes and tried to see the situation through Arthurs a few moments of silent contemplation had passed he found his feelings hadn't changed. Regardless of what direction the little evidence they had pointed, the order's position was clear.

"Arthur, I think Shacklebolt is right."

"You think it's all coincidence." Arthur sounded like he'd expected as much.

"What we all think is little more than relevant at this point. It's the Orders job to be vigilant and be the champion of justice. If it turns out that you were right, then we fight. But you know as well as I that no calm conversation was ever started with wands en guarde. We don't vilify people Arthur, give it time and he'll do it himself." Lupin's hunched forward position mirrored Arthurs as he tried to see his face through the darkness.

Arthur stood straight and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just don't want to be taken by surprise."

The heavy tone of voice reminded Remus that more than anyone else, Arthur and Molly had much to lose. Despite this, Lupin let out a small laugh. "You? Taken by surprise? There's no chance."

Lupin clapped his hand on his friends back and started to slide the balcony door open hoping his friend would follow, but willing to accept that he might not. "Maybe all of this worrying will be for nothing. There's a good chance Shacklebolt will win the election." Lupin offered as he walked through the door.

Arthur's expression agreed with Lupin. "Yes, but then we still have the body of a muggle born witch to worry over." Arthur looked defeated as he passed Lupin and made his way back to the large dining room.

Remus pondered what was just said and was left with a feeling, deep down, that Arthur wasn't as far off the mark as they all hoped.

* * *

Hermione struggled for breath that would not come. Blurred light edged by ominous darkness gave her the feeling that she was drowning. Muddled angry voices asked her questions she couldn't understand. A blinding white heat coursed through her body. Every bone was on fire, every inch of skin vibrated. She felt her bowels shake and bile rise up her throat. Something was holding her down. Pulling her back. She was sinking and every attempt to pull herself up was punctuated with more pain. Every exhale became shorter and more painful while each inhale drew less and less air. Pure panic forced her chest to explode and a scream bellowed from deep within.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

The voice was like a directionless beacon. A glimmer of hope. If she could just get out from under the weight on her chest, she could find it.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE" The shout came again, this time from somewhere closer. She tried to reach but the fire came again and this time she could feel her heart thump so widely she was sure it was going to explode. The pressure in her heart and lungs continued to compound. She dug deep for every ounce of mental and physical strength she could muster and thrashed her arms out in front of her.

Hermione bolted upright and felt immediate relief. Her first instinct was to clutch the wand under her pillow. The second was to breathe. She inhaled deeply and drew in as much air as her lungs could take. Rubbing her eyes wearily, she threw her legs off the bed and sat at its edge, giving herself a few minutes to calm down. She was used to the dreams by now. Used to hearing Ron's voice from somewhere too far away. Used to reliving the pain she would never forget. She'd grown accustomed to the weakness that followed and the anger she couldn't shake. But what she hadn't grown used to, what frustrated her in this moment was her dependency on Ron.

She and Bill had been gone for almost a week and in that time she'd not had a single decent night's sleep. Hermione had hoped that in her time away from Ron she would have shown some independence. She'd hoped the time away would be an escape. For the last year she and her friends, and maybe in some ways the whole wizarding world had lived in a sort of suspended animation. Putting everything on hold in the hopes that they would live to come back and reclaim what they'd missed. Now she felt she wanted to prolong the pause for just a little while longer and…take a deep breath. Before the onslaught of tests and careers and undefined relationships could swallow her whole.

Before they'd defeated Voldemort the world had seemed so uncertain, but Hermione had been able to brush that away because they'd had a purpose. A general direction in which to take flight.

Now the future was still uncertain, but the endless horizon of possibilities was too much. For the first time in a long time, there was no path laid out in front of her and instead of feeling free, she felt overwhelmed.

It wasn't until she tried to make her way to the shower that she'd noticed there had been a gentle rapping coming from the door. Hermione glanced down to make sure she was decent and decided to pull on one of Ron's old jumpers she'd stolen from his closet before leaving.

She pointed her wand at the door and whispered the password. The knob turned and the door cracked open. Bill entered hesitantly. He was still in his pajamas and his hair was quite the sight. Since spending time with him this week Hermione had been surprised at just how much the Weasley men all looked like one another.

"Just wanted to double check." Bill said quietly.

Hermione shuffled to the bathroom sink right next to the front door and turned on the cold water.

"I'm fine. No death eaters, or snatchers, or thieves or rapists. I'm sorry I woke you." Hermione felt weak and embarrassed and couldn't make herself look at Bill until he surprised her by reaching across the sink and turning the water off. She slowly looked up, expectantly.

"I know you're fine. I thought maybe…do you want to talk about it?" Bills arms were folded across himself and his hair stuck up at odd angles. The way he leaned against the wall so casually, yet with such commanding presence reminded her a little of Ron.

Hermione was at a loss. Yes, part of her did want to talk about it. She wanted someone to tell her she wasn't crazy. She wanted someone to assure her that the nightmares where normal and that someday they would go away.

Bill seemed to sense this and moved to close the door next to him.

Hermione forced a smile. "It's just…a bad dream."

"Yeah, I'd gathered that."

He waited patiently. Hermione turned her back to the sink and pulled herself up to sit next to it on the counter.

"What do you dream about?" Bill asked, as if there was a simple answer.

It suddenly dawned on Hermione, how hard it must have been for Bill and Fleur to see so much, and know so little.

She paused for a moment calming herself down. "Bellatrix Lestrange using the cruciatus curse on me at Malfoy Manner." She could be honest with him. With everything he'd done for her. For them. It was the least she could do.

Bill's eyes widened but he nodded his head as if he'd suspected something along those lines.

"I take a potion sometimes. I know I should take it more often, I just…it feels wrong."

Bill nodded in understanding again. "After my bout with Fenrir, I took it for a few nights. But I understand what you mean. It feels weird, after a while. Sleeping every night with no dreams. Feels empty."

This time Hermione nodded. It felt good to have someone understand her. "I don't know what's more tiring. Never getting any sleep or constantly feeling like I have to look over my shoulder. It's like, I know the war is over, and Voldemort is gone, but for some reason it feels like…"

"Like you haven't faced the end of it yet. There's still one final battle you haven't fought?" Bill looked tired, and not just from a lack of sleep.

"Yeah." He got it.

"I've felt the same way off and on. I think it's normal. Maybe everyone who survives a war or battle feels this way." Bill moved to pull himself up next to Hermione on the vanity counter. She scooted over a little and let the side of her butt rest over the edge of the sink.

"So with time it will fade?" She asked no one in the room.

Bill shrugged and looked at her again. "Did Bellatrix give you that?" He pointed to Hermione's neck. She nodded and lifted her chin.

Hermione had seen Bill notice it several times. When they'd arrived at Shell Cottage it had been small but blood stained. Fleur had tried a number of things to get rid of it, but the small angry scar wouldn't budge.

"Fleur says some dark magic can't be healed."

"I think the knife was enchanted with some kind of hex or something." Hermione offered him a better view. "It's faded quite a bit. Just a little pink." She felt a little silly as she lowered her chin again.

"It's not too bad at all. Especially compared to some." He gestured to his own face and Hermione decided not to be bashful. She turned slightly to better see the scars he'd received from Fenrir Greyback. He turned his face to give her the full view. They weren't wide or ragged, just long and extensive.

"I suppose it's a bit scary." Bill mumbled. Insecurity was a trait she'd only ever seen on the youngest Weasley brother and it was disconcerting to see it on Bill.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look.

"What?"

"You Weasely men and your false modesty. You married a bloody Veela, Bill. I don't think you'll ever have to question your good looks." Hermione stated plainly.

Bill looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, I'm lucky to have married a woman who loves me."

"You're lucky that you have gorgeous hair and nice bone structure. And your lucky chicks dig scars."

Bill laughed at that. "That's what my wife tells me." He pulled one leg up to his chest and ran a hand through his hair.

They sat in silence and then they both started laughing. But just as quickly, Hermione felt tears sting her eyes and she just couldn't help herself. She lowered her face into her hands and let out a sob.

Bill felt shocked by the change but put his arm around her shoulders awkwardly. "Hey now, no tears."

"I'm so sorry Bill." Hermione stuttered out as he shushed her. "You came here and wasted all this time and I just…."

"Hermione." To say that Bill was out of his element would be an understatement. The only females he'd really ever spent a significant amount of time with he could count on two fingers and the time he had spent with Ginny had been limited. The age gap between them had given him the unfortunate disadvantage of missing out on typical big brother duties. Hermione continued too sniffle and tears streamed down. He scrambled to find the right words. "You've been through a lot. And you haven't seen your parents in almost a year. It would have been foolish to assume that this would be easy. Maybe you need some time. Give yourself a break before you jump back into...life."

Bill hopped down and grabbed a wad of toilet paper out of the bathroom. He handed it to her delicately. "Don't worry about my time. I would have done the same thing for any other member of my family." He smiled and nudged her. Hermione looked up at him and smiled back through a teary hiccup. "Besides, Fleur was going to visit her family, and this gave me the excuse I needed to get out of it." He made a face that made Hermione laugh.

She snorted and dabbed her eyes with the ball of toilet paper Bill had handed her.

"I just feel like such an idiot. I've waited all this time. We did all this work-"

"And if nothing else, you'll have peace of mind. You know their safe until Kingsley gives you the go ahead to return their memory."

Hermione stared absently at the bathroom door and nodded her head. The flow of tears had abated and they both became distracted by their own thoughts.

When several minutes had passed Bill decided to excuse himself. "I'm gonna go back to bed, you ok?."

Hermione nodded. On his way out, Bill paused in the door way. "Maybe we should check on them, one more time before we leave this afternoon."

Hermione jumped off the counter and cleared her throat. "That would be nice. And, thanks Bill."

He nodded his head and closed the door. Hermione ran a hand through her hair and pointed her wand at the door knob and whispered the password to lock it back up.

"Weasley."

* * *

Harry hadn't felt this light in a long time. For the first time in years, he felt well rested, energized, and excited for the future. He closed his newly acquired 'Practical Counterspells for The Dark Arts' book, rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses and set out to find Ginny. It had been two hours since he'd last kissed her and that was one hour too long in his opinion.

He stopped in his tracks when he rounded the corner to the kitchen. Ginny was leaning against the sink, staring out the window thoughtfully. Harry wished he had a way to preserve the sight that was before him. It was moments like this that he appreciated just being alive.

Ginny's hair lie over her far shoulder revealing a long, graceful neck and pointed chin. She was on her toes and her calf muscles took on those lines of definition Harry never failed to notice. Harry loved Ginny's legs and over the years, he hadn't been the only one to notice them. In the Gryffindor boys dormitory, a good number of irreverent prayers had been devoted to those legs. Ginny had a dangerous mix of femininity and athleticism that made her a target for many a wandering eye. Luckily for Harry, none of those eyes were in the room right now. Taking one more moment to appreciate the short shorts she'd thrown on this morning, Harry tried his hardest to sneak up behind her. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Ginny called him out.

"Taking a break from studying?"

Harry dropped all pretenses of going unnoticed and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her hair "Mmhmm." Her hands joined his hands at her waist, but she remained fixed on the window.

"What are we looking at?" Harry asked, reluctantly pulling himself away and craning to see what had her distracted. Outside, under a far tree, Ron was sitting, surrounded by books. He too had been studying at one point, but like Ginny, had become distracted. Harry followed Ron's gaze out to the field of grass beyond the burrow but noticed nothing worth looking at.

"Probably still stewing over Hermione being gone." Harry muttered as he pulled away from Ginny and went about fetching a cup of tea.

Ginny turned around slowly. "No more than you." She had that look on her face that told Harry to tread lightly.

"Well it was selfish of her to go without us." Harry he mumbled bitterly.

"I don't want to argue about this, but just for the record, I think you're wrong." Ginny replied and then turned to look back out the window.

Harry could live with that. He spent another moment studying Ginny's backside before speaking again. "Speaking of Hermione, has there been any new news?" He looked around aimlessly for anything that might have come since last night, but came up empty.

Ginny shook her head 'no'.

"I'm actually surprised that Ron's taken all of this as well as he has. You know how he can be, especially when it comes to her." Harry offered.

Ginny turned around again to look at him. "Yeah! Don't you think it's...wierd?. Do you think somethings wrong? It's disturbing how…chill he is. He's been so quiet, but not...broody or anything. I'm used to him being hot headded and stubborn. Now he actually thinks before he speaks which is a feat no Weasley male has every mastered. And what's with the reading and studying. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure he _could_ read." Harry snorted and Ginny paused, trying to be serious. "Ever since we've been back he's been acting so…." She searched for the word.

"Grown up." Harry supplied.

Ginny eyes widened as she pondered this. "Yeah. I guess." She _again_, turned to her ministrations at the window.

Harry felt bad. A lot had changed since the battle at Hogwarts and it made sense that those changes would be felt more in a family setting than anywhere else. Fred's death had brought about enough of a disturbance in the Weasley dynamic without the baggage each individual now carried with them.

Harry put down his tea and pushed his chair back. He half stood, reaching for her hand and dragged her back into his lap.

"I noticed, back before we left Hogwarts that something was different. When we talked, sometimes when he was just standing there, he was...different. But, I don't think it's a bad thing Ginny. Ron's a smart bloke, bravest guy I know. I think he's, you know…" Harry nodded towards the window. "coming into himself. He's figuring out who he is and what he wants and he's growing up."

Ginny shifted in his lap and this time it was her turn to bury her face in his neck. Harry was right. Some of the childish things that used to drive her nuts were disappearing. They were all studying for the N.E.W.T.s testing to be held at the end of the summer, Ginny was going to be taking her O.W.L.S in a few short weeks and after that Harry, Ron and Hermione would be applying with the Auror office and Ginny, with a stroke of luck would be accepted to School of Magical Healing in London. They had just this short summer to enjoy the remnants of youth before the real world came crashing down on them. "I just want everything to go back to the way it used to be." She mumbled.

There were a lot of things Harry wished he could change. He wished he could bring back Fred, and Tonks, Moody and Sirius, Dumbledore. He wished so many wouldn't have had to give their lives in the war. He wished Hermione was there with them, and he wished she'd never have gone through the torture she'd endured at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. But despite all of that, Harry still felt it hard to empathize with Ginny. His life now was infinitely better than before.

Wanting the change the mood in the room, Harry pulled slightly away from Ginny. "I don't know Ginny, if we didn't all grow up a little, could I do this?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively as his hand, starting mid calf, slowly slid up her leg, to her thigh and then the hem of her shorts.

Ginny smiled seductively, her face framed by her mane of hair. The smile made him forget what they were even talking about and the kiss that followed made him forget where they were all together. The distant roil of thunder and the clang of the screen door didn't register with him either as he continued to kiss Ginny slowly, his hand working her thigh.

"GINERVA WEASLEY!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry jumped but Ginny was unphased as she pulled away, exasperated.

"Yes?" she snapped, although Harry thought he saw her hold back the tiniest smile.

Ron tossed his books and a stack of parchment onto the table. He braced himself on the table and said very seriously "No man should have to walk into his kitchen and see his sister being accosted." He gave Harry a pointed look.

"Actually, I think I was doing most of the 'accosting'. Don't you, Harry?"

"Hhmm? Oh, yeah. I feel incredibly violated right now." He said with perfect sincerity.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were studying." Ginny inquired.

"It's raining."

Only then did Harry notice that it had gotten darker in the kitchen. The sky outside the kitchen window was a dark grey. The warmth of the kitchen and Ron and Ginny gathered around the table gave Harry a cozy sort of feeling. A crack of lightening danced far away and it was in random moments like this that Harry had a little feeling that Hermione should be there with them.

"Oooh, I love a good thunder storm!" Ginny cooed as she took a drink of Harry's tea. His hand played absently with her hair.

Ron flipped open a book and studied what appeared to be the table of contents.

"What's that you got there, mate?" Harry asked. Ron pulled up the cover so Harry could read it, but continued his search without interruption.

"History of Magic? I didn't think we needed that for the N.E.W.T.s." Harry gave him a quizzical look that Ron didn't notice.

Ron flipped forward in the book, looking for a specific page number and glanced up at Harry for a moment. "It's not for my N.E.W.T.s." he replied.

Ginny swiveled in Harrys lap and gave him a 'told you so' look before turning back to Ron.

"Are you going to let us in on the mystery?" Ginny prodded.

Ron leaned heavily on the book and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just looking up this Purist Movement thing that's got Dad so worked up."

Harry made a grim face. "Thinking of joining, then?"

Ron rolled his eyes for the millionth time since knowing Harry. "More like hunting them down and killing them one by one." He said distractedly.

"Lovely." Ginny supplied with fake enthusiasm.

Harry poked Ginny in the ribs and she stood. He moved out from behind her and took his cup back for more tea. "Found anything interesting?" Harry's interest had been piqued.

Ron stood up and headed for the pantry. "No. Just what Dad's told me. They started up about sixty years ago. Lots of stupid pure blood families joined. They did terrible things to muggles and when they failed to maintain any significant support in the Ministry of Magic people kind of lost track of them." He settled on a bag of chips and sat back down. "Dad said peoples tolerance of muggles has been a slow thing commin'." Harry swooped over to steal a handful, but Ron just passed him the bag. "Hey I was thinking we could practice some hexes before Lupin comes by tomorrow." he suggested with a mouth full of chips.

Harry stuffed his own face, then nodded. He walked back over to Ginny and gestured for her to stand up. She obliged and then reclaimed Harry's lap. Ron peeked over the book he'd resumed reading. Despite the ribbing he gave them, he actually envied how naturally they did stuff like that.

If he thought about the relationship he had with Hermione, the last seven years had been just as natural. Fighting and making up were like childs play to them. Defending one another against Malfoy was effortless. Even the constant urge to protect one another was almost basic instinct. While wanting to kiss Hermione was nothing new, having the privilege (regardless of how fuzzy the parameters) was and this new territory came with more hesitance. He wondered if Hermione would ever feel comfortable just plopping down on his lap or stealing sips of his tea.

Ron tried to picture them as an older couple. Him sweeping her into almost comical grand gestures of affection the way his father did with his mother. The thought made him feel warm inside and once again, he felt Hermione's absence. Without conscious thought his right hand went into his pocket and he gingerly fingered the deluminator. Since her departure it had become a sort of talisman. A way to feel less useless.

The rest of the afternoon was spent studying quietly. Ginny and Harry took turns throwing an occasional chip or balled up piece of parchment at Ron, just to break the monotony. The rain came down in sheets and lightening continued to crack, thunder echoing loudly around the burrow. Which was why no one was aware of Hermione's return until, soaking wet, she burst through the kitchen door.

"This weather is insane." Hermione muttered as she tried to toe off her shoes in the doorway.

Ginny, Ron and Harry all looked at one another briefly before racing out of their chairs and flying across the kitchen to intercept Hermione first. Ginny, being the smallest maneuvered through the boys and crashed into Hermione, enveloping her in a big hug. Hermione hesitated for half a second and then returned the hug. She looked over Ginny's shoulder to see both boys smiling widely at her and felt a small lump form in her throat.  
Ginny pulled back and gave her a soft smile. They'd talked a lot before Hermione had left and Ginny knew how much her parents had weighed on her mind over the last year. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming back today? We could have been waiting outside with an umbrella. And where's Bill?"

"Bill apparated back to Shell Cottage as soon as we returned. The port key took us to George's shop. He insisted on showing me the latest and greatest in the back room before he let me leave. It looks like they'll be back up and running soon." Hermione half laughed as she explained.

Ron felt himself smile and the relief he felt at having Hermione back home took him by surprise. It was as if a weight had been taken off of his shoulders. Hermione was close enough to touch and in one piece, albeit her eyes were blood shot and he could almost feel her exhaustion. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping and he added it to the list of things he'd have to pay attention to.

Before Hermione knew what was happening Harry was pushing Ginny out of the way and taking his turn. He kissed her on the side of her head as he began to loosen his grip. "No, changed my mind. Not done yet." He said as he pulled her to him, tighter than before. She couldn't help but laugh. "Next time we all go." He whispered in her ear.

A tear slid down Hermione's cheek. She brushed it away before anyone could notice and hugged Harry as hard as she possibly could. She noticed Ron standing back and she found that as much as she'd missed him, she felt too nervous to meet his eyes. When Harry finally let go Ginny pulled him back farther into the kitchen and Ron stood arms crossed, leaning against the wall with the hint of a smile on his lips. It took Hermione a moment to pluck up the courage to glance up.

Just as her eyes met his, he moved. Swiftly, he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a hug that lifted her off the ground. She tightened the precarious hold she had on his neck. "You're getting soaked." She muffled into his neck.

"Don't care."

He placed her back down on the ground and moved to hold both of her hands. Hermione felt an involuntary smile curl her lips. That look he couldn't seem to help giving her lately, like he was trying to find something in her eyes or expression, was really growing on her. When he seemed to find what he was looking for, or give up altogether he lowered his lips to hers.

It was soft and sweet and slow and it made Hermiones head feel fuzzy. Ron released her hands to tangle his own into her wet curls. He'd almost forgotten where they were when the moment was cut short by Harry bellowing "HERMIONE GRANGER!"

Ginny snorted in the background and Harry suppressed his own laughter.

Ron and Hermione both froze. Hermione was red but Ron just looked irritated as he led her into the kitchen. He took his wand from the table and performed a drying spell on Hermione.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Hermione asked. She felt her backpack being removed from her back and turned to smile at Ron.

"Well." He started as if he was explaining how to do a simple spell. "no man wants to stand in a kitchen and watch his sister being violated." Harry pointed at her and lectured calmly.

"Accosted." Ginny whispered.

"Accosted." Harry amended.

Hermione, being the clever girl she is, looked at Ron and then back at Ginny and Harry who were once again sharing a seat.

"Ron caught you in the kitchen, did he?"

Ginny shrugged and Harry shook his head no.

Without much thought, Ron sat down quickly and with a stomach full of nervous energy pulled Hermione to sit on his lap. He hid a smile in her hair when she complied without hesitating and started to sort through his stack of books. Ron pushed his mug of tea towards her, just in case.

"History of Magic? I know this isn't a text book, is this on the suggested reading for the Auror training program they sent us?" Hermione asked absently while thumbing through the book.

Harry's eyes shot to Rons.

"What do you mean, us?" Harry asked.

"Us. You, me, Ron. I thought…Ginny are you still considering Magical Healing?" Hermione looked up from the book for a second and then began to turn the pages slowly.

Ron could feel himself tense under her.

"I am." Ginny stood and swallowed a gulp of tea. "And I have a feeling you're about to get a very 'big brother-y' lecture that I'd rather not sit through. Come up when you're through here, we need to catch up." She tapped Hermione's shoulder before she grabbed up two of the books on the table and made her way upstairs.

Hermione started to remove herself from Ron's lap and he didn't stop her. She took a seat to his left and sat back, eyeing the boys suspiciously.

Harry tried his hardest not to look at her while Ron couldn't not look.

Hermione crossed her arms and Ron could feel the familiar crackle of a heavy row electrifying the air. No matter what, he was going to keep his cool. She'd literally just walked through the door. They finally had her back and he wasn't going to spoil what should be a great day by hackling up her defenses.

"Let's hear it then." Hermione demanded.

Harry and Ron both looked to one another for direction.

Harry held his breath, knowing all too well how good Ron was at making an extraordinary fucking mess out of his interactions with Hermione. Things had changed, Ron had changed, but not enough time had passed for Harry to consider that.

To Ron's surprise Harry just shrugged. "We just assumed you'd be going for a ministry position Hermione. You're the smartest witch in England and I can't see you wasting that."

Hermione eyed him, searching for the deception.

"Yeah. That's all." Ron added poorly, already seeing Harry's mistake.

They all waited for each other to break the silence.

"So you think me being an Auror would be a waste?"

It was a trap! Ron tried to get Harry's attention using only the widening of his eyes.

"Yeah." Harry went ahead full speed for a moment before catching it. "I mean, no. You'd make a great Auror. We'd be lucky to work with you, it's just…" He looked to Ron to take over.

Ron cleared his throat and absently played with the edge of a piece of parchment. "Hermione, you could be writing legislation that changes the wizarding world, you could be a healer and discover a potion or spell that saves thousands of people, you could revolutionize the way healing is done. These are things the average person isn't capable of, its work we wouldn't even consider, but you…you have unlimited possibilities."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry turned to look at Ron with stunned disbelief. Perhaps after years of losing fights with Hermione, he'd learned enough to win a few.

Ron gave himself a mental high five. He'd meant every word he said, but come one, he'd spent the last seven years always saying the wrong bloody thing, even Hermione couldn't find fault with what had just tumbled out of his mouth.

Despite all that, he felt himself get nervous under her stare.

"So Ron," she smiled and leaned slightly closer to him. He smiled back against his will. "Can you look me in the eye, and tell me this has nothing to do with some ludicrous notion that you need to protect me? You two aren't playing the 'big brother' card with me like you do with Ginny?"

She glanced at Harry who looked extremely guilty and then back at Ron, who had way more experience lying.

Ron smiled sweetly. "I can honestly tell you I have no desire to ever act like your brother."

Harry kicked him under the table and Hermione stood up. "Ok. I don't want to fight. I just got back, I'm exhausted and have a ton of studying to catch up on. I'm going upstairs to take a long hot shower, and then have a nice chat with Ginny and you're going to get this through your thick skulls." She pointed between the two boys with one eyebrow cocked. "We are a team, we work well together. I am smart enough and strong enough to be an auror and I will choose the profession that _I_ feel is right for me." And with that, she picked up her back pack and started up the stairs.

Ron waited for Hermione to make it up the stairs before he rounded on Harry.

"You're the one who said 'she's an adult, she has to make her own decisions, keep your temper in check.' I barely made it through this last week and now she wants to be a fucking auror?" He ran his hand through his hair nervously.

Harry held out his hands in exasperation and looked at Ron like he'd sprouted gills. "First of all, she is an adult and she does have to make her own decisions. We're not talking about our child here, it's Hermione."

"You think this is a good idea?"

"No! But you saw how she was just now." Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses and banged his forehead against the table.

"We have eight weeks until the N.E.W.T.s, let's just…think of something." Ron whispered.

Harry kept his face down on the table but lifted a 'thumbs up'. They were screwed.


End file.
